About a dozen alert readers sent me links today to this news item from PETA, in which the animal-rights terrorist group encourages Ben & Jerry’s to replace the cow’s milk in their ice cream with human milk.

PETA got the idea from the recent announcement that a Swedish restaurant was going to start using human milk, bought from willing female humans, in some of its recipes.

PETA’s logic, of course, is, “Hey, we here at PETA sure would like some attention!” Secondarily, PETA’s logic is that dairy cows endure a lot of hardship. Thirdly, PETA figures that human milk is probably healthier for humans than cow’s milk is, although let’s be honest, even if human milk were poisonous PETA would still encourage its use as long as it saved the life of an animal.

One of the people who sent me the story said she’d heard a radio crew coming up with names for Ben & Jerry’s flavors using milk from human female ladies. (Ben and Jerry aren’t actually considering doing this, of course.) The new flavors would have to be named after famous women. The favorite was Caramel Electra. I submit the following:

Gov. Sarah Praline
Mocha Winfrey
Cherry Stuart Masterson
Jennifer Love Nougat
Cocoa Chanel
Elizabeth Barrett Brownie
Lemony Dickinson
Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy Molasses

Clay Aiken: When even *my mother* already thought you were gay, that’s a good sign it wasn’t much of a secret. http://tinyurl.com/4tdhuc

Dear gov’t: I was sorta irresponsible and screwed up my finances. Could I have a bailout, too? I don’t even need $700 mil! $10 mil is fine.

Clay Aiken fans are idiots: http://tinyurl.com/3sv3tb

If you felt the world rocking yesterday afternoon, it’s probably because of this:

(If you’re wondering how he has a son, it was through in vitro fertilization, and the mother is Clay’s friend Jaymes Foster, who is a woman despite being named Jaymes.)

Yes, Clay Aiken has officially come out of the closet, triggering the expected “well, no duh” jokes. Most observers, and plenty of his fans, have strongly suspected it for a long time. What’s newsworthy (relatively speaking) is that he’s finally settled the matter once and for all and ended the speculation. Apparently, within the Claymate community there has been much debate over his sexuality, with one camp insisting he’s straight while the other camp says, “Um, really? Have you seen him?” Now the issue is resolved, and Clay’s fans can move on to more important topics, whatever those might be.

Let’s talk about those fans, shall we? I attended a performance of “Spamalot” on Broadway back in May when Clay was a cast member. Though it was obviously nothing more than a casting stunt designed to sell tickets, Clay acquitted himself rather well. He’s a good singer, of course, and he showed something resembling comic timing, and he was game to do all the goofy stuff the production required of him.

His fans, on the other hand, all behaved like idiots.

The Claymates comprised about one-third of the audience. They showed their devotion to their idol by screaming and cheering every time he did the following:

• Anything.

I mean this literally. Walking onstage always got a reaction. Uttering a line — especially a punchline — drew sustained clapping and yelling. If he did anything physical, especially anything resembling dancing, and especially if it involved turning around to show his backside to the audience, it prompted a tsunami of shrill ululation. In the second act, when he sang a solo number — a good, upbeat song, but nothing out of the ordinary for a Broadway show — he got a STANDING OVATION. In the middle of the show. For a run-of-the-mill song.

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